


In Your Atmosphere

by alleviateme



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, M/M, airports are good places for reminders of love, basically just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-24
Updated: 2014-02-24
Packaged: 2018-01-13 16:36:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1233538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alleviateme/pseuds/alleviateme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek isn't sure when it hit him.  But now, he knew. He knew it down in his bones, as if his very DNA had "I LOVE STILES STILINSKI" imprinted straight between his eye color and his A positive blood type.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Your Atmosphere

**Author's Note:**

> hello everyone. this is my first contribution to the teen wolf fandom and my first post on here! yay! i posted this a week ago but it wasn't up for long and i sorely sorely needed to revise it. i hope you enjoy it! forgive me for any mistakes, i had no beta so the mistakes are all mine. this whole thing is all just unadulterated fluff. thanks for reading!!

Derek isn't sure when it hit him. It's somewhere between the smell of old grease soaked in the thin walls of the airport diner, the sound of plates clattering and an old waitress yelling at the tired chef and thinking about the little coffee shop he and Stiles used to frequent, spending all night talking to each other over steaming mugs of cocoa. Maybe it's when he pushes his cold fries around on the blue painted plate, wishing it was a bowl of Stiles' cartoon shaped mac and cheese, never the normal kind. ("It's fucking BORING! I can eat stupid limp dick shaped pasta anytime. I need Spongebob noodles this time, Derek. It's very important.") It could be the sound of airplanes departing, chattering of flight hosts on the intercom paging for _Mister Giles to please report to gate A5_ that makes his heart leap. But somewhere in between a handful of babies crying, a few couples kissing and reuniting, Derek felt it miles deep in his heart. He knew it down in his bones, as if his very DNA had "I LOVE STILES STILINSKI" imprinted straight between his eye color and his A positive blood type.

His suit felt too tight, too hot as he pushed through crowds of people with suitcases and messenger bags as he backtracked from his gate departing to China. He knew the itching of his charcoal business class trousers and jacket wouldn't go away until he safely arrived back home, smothered in sheets and tangled up in Stiles' limbs. Derek stormed his way back to security and deftly walked out from where he had just walked in hours before. He shoved himself down past the baggage claims and _thank god he hadn't checked any bags this trip_ before heading out of the airport into the brisk air of New York City. 

How had he ever thought to leave this city for good? How could he leave the place he called home, the place he and Stiles settled into each other in? The smell of car oil and asphalt rushed through his nose and he could almost hear the angry cabbies yelling from inside their cars. He needed to get back to Brooklyn, back to their apartment, back to lying in bed with him, lazily tracing each freckle that dotted his skin like constellations. He needed the sunrises when they woke and found themselves reaching for each other in a lusty haze, the sunsets when they curled up together on their shitty leather couch Derek stole from Erica with a terrible movie they could ignore while they made out like teenagers. He needed the laughs, the way Stiles' eyes crinkled and his big, gorgeous mouth opened wide. He needed the arguments and Stiles's inability to stop fucking talking and just listen.

His leather Jimmy Choo loafers stepped through each icy puddle, each dirty patch of snow as he tugged his coat on closer to his body. No amount of money would get him to slow down, not a single dollar could change his course. The subway took too long, but he knew any cab driver was going to take him the long way back to Bedford Avenue. Stiles always preferred the subway, anyways. So that was good enough for Derek. Stiles liked holding onto the bars and feeling the pop of his ears after the went under the river or the leap in his stomach when the train would make an unexpected jolt. Derek found himself smiling as he boarded a traincar, holding on to the plastic strap hanging above him. He imagined Stiles there, wrapping his lanky arms around Derek's body and holding onto him through the ride, giggling quietly into Derek's chest at each twist and turn of the tunnel. His body felt warm there now, buzzing with the anticipation of feeling those arms wrapping around him again.

Derek almost ran up the stairs of his - _their_ subway stop, taking the steps two or three at a time. He pushed himself past the homeless musicians, the kissing couples, and the tourist snapping a selfie. He ran the entire way to that brick complex, smiling even wider as the light to their bedroom flickered on. Stiles was home, maybe getting back from Scott's or Cora and Isaac's place. Derek used his key, and ignored the elevator completely. He ran up the long flight of stairs, huffing a bit as he made it to the second landing. God, why had Stiles decided to live on the eighth fucking floor again? Running in this suit was edging on becoming painful. He continued on, ignoring the pulsing of his heart or the shortness of breath that reminded him how much he had been slacking on working out. 

Cresting the top of the stairs felt too good as he pushed open the door and exited into the hallway. The door 8B fell into his view and his impossibly wide grin expanded into a ridiculous and marginally creepy grin Coach Finstock would probably be proud of. He slid his key into the door softly, twisting the knob and quietly letting himself in. The door, of course, had it's own idea and squeaked loudly and grunted, then slammed back into the doorframe after he entered. Derek squeezed his eyes shut tight, cursing himself under his breath for not fucking fixing that when Stiles had told him to. "Scott? Bro, I told you I'm fine. Go back to Allison. I'm fine." He heard a wavering voice call from inside the kitchen. 

Derek kept moving, groaning as each step croaked and creaked loud on the wood floors. Element of surprise... really not his strongest character trait.

"Seriously dude. I don't need any more ice cream. I'm just gonna gorge myself on shitty romance movies and then jerk of-AUGHHH!" Stiles rounded the corner, cutting off his sentence with a loud (and dignified, if you asked him) scream, capturing Derek with hunched shoulders and walking on his tip toes. "What the fuck! Derek!!??"

"Hi." Derek whispered as he dropped his briefcase and shed his wool coat. 

"Shouldn't you be on a plane right now? Drinking a scotch and flirting with those cute stewards?" Stiles croaked out, holding his heart as Derek watched his eyes water.

"I heard they got rid of those. They have robots now." Derek couldn't feel his heart, beating so fast it was almost like it wasn't beating at all.

"If that's supposed to sound like a bad thing thats actually..like the opposite of a bad thing. Because first off, robots. Robots doing anything is cool. But robots serving you drinks and giving you those little peanuts and _oh my god what if they turn against mankind and their first step is poisoning the peanuts? They could totally get away with that and none of us would fucking susp-"_

"Stiles, shut the fuck up and kiss me already."

Within nanoseconds, Stiles hopped onto Derek, latching his arms and legs around him as he kissed him hard and deep, punishing him with his rough push and pull of lips and teeth for leaving. 

Derek pressed him up against the wall and moved his mouth down, kissing at the alabaster skin at Stiles' throat, sucking, pulling, biting, doing anything to bring the boy wrapped in his arms even closer to him. 

"But really, Derek why aren't you - _oh god_ \- flying to China right noooooow?" Stiles begged through his moans, eyes shut tight as he exposed more neck to his determined boyfriend. 

Derek pulled his mouth away for just a moment, looking into Stiles' eyes and flickering to his lips and back again. "Because I love you. Because I can't believe how crazy I was to leave across the world when everything I could ever want is in this apartment." He felt Stiles suck in a breath, stuck down in his throat. "Because I never told you how much I love you, and your stupid jokes, and when you cook for me, and when you wake me up late at night to ask me if I think pandas could be lesbians, and when you hold my hand and kiss me in the middle of the street..." he trailed off, noting Stiles' pale pink cheeks and the flush that carried down his neck blooming with red spots from Derek's own mouth. "Because I just love you and I don't want to be without you anymore or ever."

"Good. You're a fucking asshole for leaving anyways." The sparkle of light behind Stiles' eyes made him laugh as he pushed off from the wall and pulled Derek out of their hallway and down towards their bedroom. 

"I knew you couldn't resist me when I asked you the panda thing. And you had the balls to try and tell me you hated me." Stiles pushed Derek down onto the bed, crawling over him and kissing him, lips bruising and swelling against each other. "And just for the record, I totally think pandas could be lesbians and who are we to judge them for choosing how to live with their sexuality?"

"Stiles, shut the fuck up and kiss me again."


End file.
